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November 05, 2007

Nanowrimo: the fetch

She never does understand why, when the dawn comes from the East, the western horizon seems to lighten beforehand. She’s tried to think about the stratosphere and atmosphere, about bouncing waves or particles of light (and she likes the thought of being two things at once, depending) and how they might bend, but when it comes down to it, she just likes to stand and watch the thing unfold, like a present.
There are still stars in the sky too, and she has a wide view- not quite 180 degrees, because of the foliage, but because her cabin is on the apex of the hill, it’s pretty much there- the headlands on either side impinge a little, but she likes those, they act as nets to the moon and the stars, she thinks, gives the human brain an edge to latch on to. Somehow having no finish, no line, would give her a headache and stop her from being able to enjoy the view. The horizon in one direction, the hills in another. Sometimes the moon rises from the south and gets dragged from Bossiney Point like a soap bubble, and she can swear she can see it stretching off, as if she is blowing through a plastic ring, then the moon pops and floats up suddenly light and free.

She decides she needs to see the sunrise proper, so, still in her jersey bottoms, she pulls on her donkey jacket and a pair of Wellingtons, grabs a piece of her cheese on toast, and heads outside. The mist is not there, and this is what makes her initially wary (how often does this happen, she thinks? Have I been missing this all these mornings?), the sky is as clear as porcelain and the stars bright from high above down to the west.

From the east however, she can see- not a lightening, as such, nor colour, just something different for now- maybe a knowledge of change. So she walks out through her gate on to the common ground next to the village hall, climbs over a style and heads up over the fields behind.

Posted by scumkitten at November 5, 2007 07:45 PM

Comments

This is very beautiful writing. I don't much like reading "proper" writing on t'internet - my mind is behaving in the wrong way; to focus, I need to have different cues than my usual squillion active windows and nervously tapping fingers - but Google Reader keeps sending me over here, and even though I'm in no frame of mind to do it justice, even though I'm scanning rather than sinking in, I just thought you should know that I am very appreciative of your graceful, evocative writing.

Posted by: Robynn at November 5, 2007 10:29 PM